


Damning choices

by rabiddog



Series: DSMP [20]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Blood and Injury, Gen, Hurt TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Major Character Injury, Ranboo Angst (Video Blogging RPF), Ranboo Needs a Hug (Video Blogging RPF), Ranboo-centric (Video Blogging RPF), TommyInnit Angst (Video Blogging RPF), TommyInnit Needs a Hug (Video Blogging RPF), Villain Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-17
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-25 18:00:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30092958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rabiddog/pseuds/rabiddog
Summary: Ranboo would have never expected to find himself in a horrifying situation such as that one - quite literally sandwiched between a rock and a hard place, with three lives dangling over his head and the answer on the tip of his tongue.Tubbo, Michael, Tommy.It's his choice. He chooses who lives, and who dies. His new family, or his first friend. But Ranboo... Ranboo already knows.-"Ranboo," He hissed out, voice cracking and somewhat staticky, "It's not your fault. It's not. You had no other choice; I know that, okay? I- I know that- I know- I know..."
Relationships: Clay | Dream & Ranboo (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Ranboo & Toby Smith | Tubbo, Ranboo & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF)
Series: DSMP [20]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2079465
Comments: 33
Kudos: 652
Collections: Completed stories I've read





	Damning choices

Tommy flashed a toothy smile, crimson, pooling splashes spreading over the whites of his teeth and edging across torn, pink gums. He was still choking on the liquid, hiccupping and gasping around endless tidal waves of crashing red and overwhelming vermillion, but he didn't want to let it show. 

He didn't want to express just how much pain he was in. Just how much _peril_ he was in. 

He can't. 

He _can’t_. 

(For Ranboo's sake, more than his own.) 

"It's not your fault, Ranboo." 

Tommy let a frail hand carefully reach out for the quivering Enderman hybrid, his fingertips desperately outstretched despite the shakiness that was running rampage through them. He wanted to grip onto his _friend_ , to curl his fingers within the ruffled material of Ranboo's dark suit and clutch onto him as if he was Tommy's only lifeline. 

But Ranboo wouldn't get any closer, not even a single step. It was like he was completely stuck down to the very floor itself, metal, serrated nails digging deep through his dress-shoes and keeping him pinned down and immobile – unable to lift even a mere toe. 

Tommy swallowed, attempting to speak through thick waves of red. 

"Ran- Ranboo." 

The taller teen's eyes flicked down to Tommy's searching gaze, keeping steady for just an uneasy, unsure second or two. 

Tommy, for the briefest, faintest of moments, had the slight chance to glimpse into those petrified, panicky red and green orbs, drinking in the flood of pure terror and regret that was within them, before Ranboo was looking away again. It was almost as if it was genuinely hurting him to lock eyes with the collapsed blonde. 

(A sigh. If his throat weren't burning, Tommy would be screaming out of pure, unbridled frustration.) 

" _Ranboo_ ," He hissed out, voice cracking and somewhat staticky, "It's not your fault. It's not. You had no other choice; I know that, okay? I- I know that- I know-" 

"I know that-" 

"I..." 

"..." 

_"Make a choice, Ranboo. Your family or your friend? It shouldn't be a hard decision to make. I know what I'd choose."_

_There was a taunting, villainous smile stretched across a scarred face, cracked lips pulled tightly up at the corners - far enough so that Ranboo was almost afraid that Dream was going to split his cheeks wide open. Jagged canines pressed out amongst a flicking tongue, and the teen swallowed._

_"I..."_

_"And make it quick. I don't have all day, after all."_

_Ranboo shifted away._

_He felt sick._

_He couldn't breathe._

_A fractured, blood-smeared mask lay discarded off to the side, the straps somewhat frayed, and deep, sawtooth lines ran straight through an eerie smile. Ranboo's gaze was stuck on it – he was unable to look away. Perhaps he was mesmerised, or perhaps he was just trying to distract himself from what was going on around him._

_He couldn't look in front of him, not unless he wanted to catch Dream's maddened gaze and widening grin._

_He couldn't look to the left of him, not unless he wanted to watch as his husband and his son cowered close together in horror and fright._

_"…"_

_He couldn't look to the right of him, not unless he wanted to see a frail, mumbling Tommy, rocking back and forth as he was thrown through PTSD-induced flashback after PTSD-induced flashback._

_Ranboo wanted to cry._

_He was stuck between a rock and a hard place, quite literally._

_On the one hand, he had Tubbo and Michael – the absolute lights of his life, two people that were everything to him and who had helped him through practically all that he'd been through (Tubbo especially.)_

_Ranboo wouldn't be the man he was today without them._

_He wouldn't be the man that he was without the ex-president's gentle reassurance, his kind words and soft gazes, his delicate touches, and sheltered hugs._

_He wouldn't be the man that he was without Michael's love, his excited sprinting and beaming grins, his wagging tail, and warm embraces._

_They were incredible, Tubbo with his quick wit and crazed antics, and his hopes for a brighter future, and Michael with his adorable little squeals and his overwhelmingly friendly nature. Ranboo wouldn't trade it for the world - _couldn't_ trade it for the world. _

_He couldn't trade it for anything, really, because they were already what he needed. They kept him sane and surprisingly grounded, even as the grouping voices whispered menacing, taunting words inside of his already crumbling mind._

_They kept Ranboo away from floating off up into the clouds – losing himself with a masked man's insanity and inevitably helping to tear the very world that they lived on, apart._

_Ranboo loved them with everything that he had and even more._

_The teen sniffled._

_But then there was Tommy._

_Daring, selfless Tommy._

_( _Hurtful, selfish Tommy_.) _

_Tommy was a good person. He was kind-hearted and sweet, words of praise and comfort leaving his lips whenever he deemed it needed and necessary. He wasn't completely rude all of the time – not constantly shouting and screaming, demanding for things to be done and for things to change._

_That was the persona side of Tommy, the one that Ranboo had arguably experienced more than enough times to last him a lifetime now._

_But that was the side that most people got to see, the one that most people on the server had to deal with no matter what the situation was or who they might be talking to (even if that was Tommy himself.) He was constantly shoved into his persona, it having happened enough times that it'd almost become a second skin._

_That wasn't it, of course. There were many variations of Tommy, many, many mirrors of him ranging from the lowest of the lows to the highest of the highs. He went from the young, L'Manburgian warrior to the cowering exile victim – from the ambitious, beaming hotel owner to the crumpled, traumatised murder victim._

_Ranboo had met almost all of them._

_( _Suffered through meeting almost all of them_.) _

_Tommy was trying his best. He really was. He'd been trying to make a change, offering up spare rooms for the lost, wandering survivors and souls of Doomsday, just wanting to make sure that everyone was safe and homed and actually had a place to go after what had unfortunately occurred._

_It was an act of kindness that hadn't been expected, but one that everyone was definitely grateful for. (Tommy had never really mentioned it, though.)_

_See, Tommy wasn't selfish; he wasn't greedy or cruel, he wasn't wicked or wrongful, he was just Tommy._

_A blemished, trembling victim of deceitful abuse and brutal murder – he was a walking miracle, rebirthed from the fire he'd died within, and (unfortunately to some) he was a science experiment that they had free range to poke and prod at whenever they pleased._

_He was a dead man walking._

_He was a miracle, and both the made up of the old scriptures of a tattered revival book all at once._

_And also, above all, he was Ranboo's very first friend._

_The first person that Ranboo had caused playful havoc with, laughing and dancing around together as they acted like children again. He was the first person that had made Ranboo feel comfortable and at home in a big new server with countless amounts of new, scary people._

_Tommy had been welcoming and warm, metaphorical arms spread and a silly expression on his face._

_But..._

_But he _also_ wasn’t Tubbo. _

_He wasn't Tubbo, and nor was he Michael._

_He was _Tommy_. _

_And they were Ranboo's _family_. _

_There was a huge, huge difference between friends and family – one that would inevitably cost a great deal._

_Everyone in the room knew it, but that didn't mean they wanted to accept it truly._

_Not at all._

_Ranboo's gaze shifted down to Tommy. He'd stopped rocking, instead choosing to loop his quivering, frail arms around his thin legs and curl up beside the wall. Dream was hovering above him, a glistening Netherite sword dangling from his hip._

_Dream already knew, too, it seemed._

_They all already knew._

_Ranboo swallowed, guilt festering within his chest as he watched the blonde through a misty-eyed gaze._

_"I'm so, so sorry."_

__

Now Ranboo was here, stood within that very, suffocating cave, blood spilling out across the dirty floor and a manic man clearly missing from the action. 

The mask was gone, and so was everything else to do with him. 

Except for the memories. 

Ranboo could still vividly see the moment that Dream's sword had sliced through the middle of Tommy's delicately rising chest, pushing through thick layers of fat and skin, piercing past blooming, writhing organs, and chopping through bone until there was absolutely nothing left but a gaping, sobbing hole. 

He'd watched as the blonde teen had collapsed to the floor, hands twitching and desperately scrambling for some sort of reprieve against the burning, scorching pain of agony and torture racing through him. 

Heavy, wet gasps had bubbled past Tommy's cracked and parted lips, cascading over his trembling chin and spilling over his typically white shirt. Tommy had screamed and sobbed, he'd let out echoing cries, and heavy, repetitive onslaughts of tears had run down his sunken cheeks. 

Ranboo didn't think he'd ever felt more guilt. 

He can't even help Tommy now. There's nothing that he could do – nothing he could say to make this any better. 

After all, how is he supposed to do it? 

" _Sorry, I know that we were friends, but you mean nothing to me compared to my family, and I couldn't lose them too. I cant_." 

That probably wouldn't go down too well. But, then again, a part of Ranboo thinks that Tommy already understands, especially with how the teen has been trying and trying to reassure him that it wasn't his fault and that Tommy didn't mind – that he'd accepted what had happened, and he'd have done the same. 

That doesn't mean Ranboo's heart hurts any less, however. 

"Tommy..." 

Ranboo's voice came out thick and emotionally layered as he slowly knelt down. There was blood spilling against the fabric of his pants, deepening an already dark colour in considerable amounts. 

Ranboo didn't find himself caring that much, if at all. 

"I'm so sorry," He whispered, eyes watering and lower lip quivering immensely. Ranboo knew that he must look pathetic, crying and mumbling as he was, when _Tommy_ was the one dying, but the blonde didn't seem to mind all that much. "I didn't mean for- for this to happen-" 

A cough, a pause, and then a shift. 

"I know," Tommy mumbled, nodding despite the pain flaring through him. He finally managed to grip onto Ranboo's hand, crimson smearing over gloved palms – neither mentioned it, however. "I know, It's okay, It's okay, Ranboo, It's okay." 

"Is it?" 

A tiny smile stretched across Tommy's paling face, his eyes drooping and his body curling inwards just a little more. 

"Stay with me?" He asked instead, blinking a little as Ranboo slowly nodded. 

Ranboo would do anything to make it up to the dying teen at that point; he'd do anything at all. He would go out and find the sweetest of golden apples; he'd give up his most precious netherite tools; he'd offer every single lick of support that he could physically muster. 

And if Tommy just wanted him to _stay_? Then that was fine too. 

Ranboo... 

Ranboo would stay.

**Author's Note:**

> I swear to god this started out as fluff 
> 
> CC: [Curious Cat](https://curiouscat.me/rabiddogs)  
> Twitter: [Wilbburs](https://twitter.com/wilbburs)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [W!|burS/-\TheSiren](https://archiveofourown.org/works/30151980) by Anonymous 
  * [+0mmy1n/-\TheGremlin](https://archiveofourown.org/works/30230982) by Anonymous 




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